Chapter Seven
The Scene
Thirty Minutes Later
Friday Night
Oh, it was about to get chaotic on the reservation, and already, pretty much what Callen predicted happened. The reservation council appeared, and then, gave him a lecture on making sure to monitor the situation.
Chief Redbear was so far up his ass on this one, if he yawned, he could cosplay as the man.
It took a lot of reassurance when word had hit that they had bodies on the rez. If Callen ever saw the man who’d found the bodies and then ran his mouth at the bar…he’d kick his ass.
The only reason Tom Redbear wasn’t being a dick was for one reason, and only one reason.
Timothy Blackhawk’s grandson.
Oh, and not him.
Ethan.
They eased up on him a little bit when they saw that one of the FBI agents handling this was Timothy’s ‘other grandson’.
That’s what they referred to him as, since he was half white, and clearly a disappointment to them, but they would risk it since he had ties to the people here.
Honestly, it took all Callen had not to slap the stupid out of them for even thinking ‘half-breed’. When he heard his deputy utter those words to the chief…
Yeah, old habits die hard.
He could remember all of the times he’d gotten into fist fights when some asshole insulted his brother, and he’d wanted to do it all over again.
Only, now, Ethan didn’t need him.
He could hold his own, and the derogatory looks didn’t seem to bother him.
Or he was just so accustomed to it that he didn’t give a fuck anymore.
Callen wasn’t sure which was true, but it still pissed him off to see people being dicks to his brother.
You’d think Natives would understand how that was shitty behavior.
This just reinforced why he needed to make sure his brother didn’t come back here. He knew that being called half-breed was something that continually damaged Ethan and hurt him.
As Gene was waiting for the cops to show up, Callen listened to his brother as he shared what his partner had found out from the local law after calling them.
An update, of sorts.
“The locals have three missing women,” he said, reading from his phone. “Ivey Slee, a teacher at the school in Damascus where she never showed up to work yesterday. You know the one…the one we went to.”
Oh, he knew.
Off the reservation, he’d been the one bullied, and Ethan had to protect him. Now, he was having to do the same for him. It just proved that they each had their own worlds and didn’t belong in each other’s.
“Funsies,” Callen said. “I love a good, forced integration into the white community by busing Natives to predominantly White schools.”
Ethan didn’t look up.
“Yeah, I love a forced integration into the Native community myself. So, I get that,” he offered. “Even now, when I get the side eye from your deputy, and the reservation chief.”
Touché.
Apparently, his brother had a point. It was a matter of perspective, and it also proved he had heard the shit comments from the Native men regarding his ethnicity.
He loved his brother and had feelings for him that he needed to keep bottled up. What he needed was for this man to leave here and never come back.
He’d be damaged if he did.
Why did he want to save him so much?
What made him want to protect him by any means possible?
Love.
It rose back up from the ashes like the phoenix. Callen had believed it had died, but it hadn’t.
It was still there, and now, stronger than ever.
That scared him.
“The second woman, Megan Vessey, a bartender, left her job on Wednesday night and never got home. Her co-workers called the police when she didn’t show for her shift, and her car was found in the lot.”
Callen just listened.
It was difficult to pay attention.
He could smell his brother’s cologne, and it was making him itchy—in that bad way.
On top of that, he wasn’t so much thinking about the victims but how bizarre it was to hear his brother talking about murders.
To him, he was Ethan.
To the world, he was an investigator.
An attractive one.
“We might get lucky,” Ethan offered. “Today, Phylis Lizney's husband got home from work, and his wife hadn’t returned from her girls’ night out the previous night. She’s likely one of the three of them,” he added.
Callen was curious and twitchy.
What he wanted was to get the fuck out of here as quickly as possible. His brain was overanalyzing this whole thing, and he knew himself.
He was going to do something stupid.
It was in his genetics.
“Why are you telling me?” he asked, as he fought to keep his voice neutral, even when that was anything but what he felt.
That made Ethan look up.
“Uh, because you’re the chief of reservation police, and this is Native land. The council just told you to ride roughshod over the suspicious and evil FBI agents—specifically Gene, the White one. So, I’m giving you an update.”
Callen just stared at him.
The words were fighting to get out.
As he stood there staring at his brother, there were so many emotions rocking through him.
He wanted to hug him.
He wanted to be near him.
He wanted to beg him to stay there and never leave again so he could have the other half of his soul back.
Somehow, he managed to keep his mouth shut.
“Want to talk about it?” Ethan asked, tucking away his notebook.
Honestly, Ethan was confused.
Since they had time alone to talk, his brother was acting weird. He was staring at him when he thought he didn’t notice, like he wanted to say something.
Since Ethan went there, Callen had no choice but to speak to him, and pray that he did the right thing.
Let.
Ethan.
Go.
His brother had a good life, and someone who loved him. He knew that once upon a time, he’d been that person. Now, he’d moved on, and it was time to let him go.
That meant cutting all ties.
Any way possible.
“About what?” Callen asked, playing dumb.
Ethan wasn’t sure what was going on, but something was up with his brother.
Was this about earlier?
When he’d been peeping?
Was he grossed out about him liking dick?
If that was the case, they needed to address this immediately.
“About what you saw when you looked in your window?” he asked. “We can start there. We can also talk about anything else you wanted to discuss.”
Oh, Jesus.
His brother had to know that Callen had enjoyed what he’d saw, and then, he was going to know his secrets.
All.
Of.
Them.
Instead of answering him, he went there.
“Why are you staying here to do this, Ethan?” Callen asked.
He considered the question. It wasn’t lost on him that his brother avoided his first suggestion.
Yeah, he was willing to bet that his brother was uncomfortable with what he saw. Well, he loved Gene, and he didn’t care that he was a man.
The heart loved who it loved.
“Well, I shot a fellow Fed. He was in the process of killing my man. Our boss called me in, and he tried to use my relationship with my partner, which is against the rules, to bully me. He wanted me to go somewhere without Gene or lose my job. I chose the latter.”
Callen just listened, and it wasn’t lost on him that his brother didn’t answer the real question. He was telling him about the journey here.
“I panicked, and instead of flying back to Philly, where I’m living now, I came here. I needed…I needed a place to hide, and this place is familiar,” he offered, finding the right word.
Callen still didn’t say anything.
At first.
“Why my place?”
Ethan shrugged.
“I didn’t want to deal with Wyler or Timothy. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind me being around. I needed to regroup. I’m sorry you left your home, and I sullied it up. It’s clear you saw what you saw and are upset about that. I like dick. I’m in love with Gene, and he makes me happy.”
Oh, Timothy had warned Callen about shitting on his brother’s sex life. Only, that wasn’t even close to what he was thinking. Callen wished it was that simple.
How did he explain that he needed his brother to go so that he didn’t do something inappropriate with him?
Because he loved him, and NOT in just a brotherly way.
Callen wasn’t having it.
“Stop it.”
Ethan stared at him.
“Stop what?”
He was to the point.
“That self-depreciating behavior. You know I’d never not let you in at my place or have issues with you liking men. That’s not what I’m talking about. You hate me, and you left,” he stated. “You can’t stand me. Why are you back here?”
Honestly, Ethan didn’t want to do this. He was pretty sure coming back with a motorcycle, and a jacket for his brother was a clear sign that he was trying to make amends.
The real enemy was Timothy.
Not Callen.
Only, he was on Callen’s turf, and he’d hurt the man with the New Orleans bullshit. He came here, and now, he had to face the demons that were riding him in this hellscape. He had given him a laundry list of mixed signals.
Now, it was time to work through them. It was why he’d left him a very heartfelt note telling him exactly how he felt about him.
“I don’t hate you.”
Callen sighed.
“Okay, EJ,” he said.
Ethan was honest.
“I really don’t. I hate this place,” he said. “I hate being around you because you’re here.”
That made Callen pause.
“What does that mean?”
Ethan sighed and shared what he could.
“I feel like a failure here. I feel like having to come home means I failed at being…someone. But when I fell, this was the first place I thought to come to. Not my home in DC, not our home in Philly. Here. There are horrible strings here, and they keep pulling me back. I feel like I need to come here. I just don’t know why.
I think I keep coming back because of you, CJ. ”
Oh, shit.
That was bad.
Callen didn’t want him here.
This place wasn’t good for him, and honestly, it wasn’t big enough for the two of them. They couldn’t both be here when there was the war of the roses going on between them.
They were both angry, clearly, and how Callen felt about him only added to that.